


Under the Mistletoe

by musicalsmarvelandmore



Series: 12 Days of Sprace Christmas One-Shots [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mistletoe, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalsmarvelandmore/pseuds/musicalsmarvelandmore
Summary: On Christmas Eve, the newsies of New York are celebrating with a party when Spot and Race get caught under the mistletoe.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: 12 Days of Sprace Christmas One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057091
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Under the Mistletoe

It was a great night to be a newsie.

If there was anything a bunch of teenage boys loved to do in the city, then it was definitely celebrate. And what was a better case for celebration than Christmas?

Not all the newsies celebrated that holiday, but still, no one was going to say no to partying and dancing. And drinking.

Even Spot had let up on his stern demeanor a little. Christmas was like a truce, for all the newsies of New York. Sure, some dumbasses might start something, but there were enough good tidings and, dare he say it, cheer to deal with it all. New York during the holidays just made everything else better, almost like there was a sort of magic about the night, and that was something that no one else could take away.

The younger boys had mostly crashed, leading to a slightly rowdier crowd, but honestly, these were the faces that Spot had grown up seeing, even those who didn’t live in Brooklyn. Tonight, they could all be one.

Alcohol was flowing freely, and Spot hated to think how the newsies had managed to get a hand on such a large quantity, but that would be a problem for later. It was probably Spot’s boys responsible. They were Brooklyn, after all, and no one enjoyed a good drink like a Brooklyn boy.

Spot was trying to stay more or less sober, but he was definitely a little tipsy. Not stupid drunk or anything like that, but enough that the world somehow seemed lighter, that there were possibilities.

Some newsies, Spot didn’t know who, had decorated the warehouse they were holed up in for the season. Spot had the feeling that not only were a lot of these decorations stolen, but they had already been used and would go straight back to lodging in one of the boroughs. It was important to be smart with your money as a newsie. Living in New York was expensive, and no one wanted to have to go out on the streets.

Spot nursed his drink, walking away from the boys he had been talking with. He couldn’t help how his face lit up at the sight of Race. Maybe it was the alcohol lowering his inhibitions. Usually he wouldn’t display his feelings so plainly on his face.

The boy in question was leaning against a wall. He wasn’t as drunk as Spot would have expected, except the other boy had been playing his harmonica earlier, adding to the general atmosphere of the room and dancing. Maybe he just hadn’t had the time too.

Race had his own beer in hand. “Hey, Spot! Ain’t seen yous around tonight.”

Spot spat in his hand, extending it out towards the other boy. “Racer. Yous having fun?”

Race imitated the motion, spit shaking. “‘Course. Did the king o’ Brooklyn finally let himself have fun? That might make the papes.”

Spot rolled his eyes. Race had the ability to get under anyone’s skin, but honestly, Spot didn’t mind it all that much.

He wasn’t sure when all of these things had changed between them. They had known each other as kids, before they became newsies, back when they were Antonio and Sean, back when they had families, even if that family life wasn’t the best.

Spot had always let Race get away with a lot. Not his borough, not his problem, except that Race was his problem.

“Only if you was writin’ them. Maybe that’s just news ta you.”

“Spot Conlon, I knows you better than anyone else in this entire warehouse,” Race said, gesturing with his free hand to the rest of the boys out behind him.

“Keep tellin’ youself that.”

Race grinned. “Me thinks I will, thanks. With or without your permission.”

A whistle from behind Spot startled him, and he turned to find one of Race’s Hattan friends, Al, who immediately spoke up. “Wow, Spotty boy and Race got themselves caught under the mistletoe.”

More Hattan boys at his side started laughing. Spot ignored them, but he could almost feel his face turned red as he turned away from them. Unfortunately, that left him staring at Race. Spot made a quiet gesture to avert his eyes.

“Al, go get youself a girl, or anything to stop annoyin’ me. Oh wait, no girl would have you!”

The redhead snorted, but Spot could feel the tension ease from his shoulders at the sound of their footsteps fading away.

Race sighed, reaching up and yanking the mistletoe off the ceiling. With his other hand, he grabbed Spot’s arm. Spot followed him as Race led them to a door.

The sky might be dark, but the rest of the city was not, lit up in thousands of candles as lights, as everyone celebrated Christmas in their own way, no matter in what form that might look. There was something magical about that, but right now, Spot only had eyes for Race.

Race let the door slam shut behind him, before he turned to face Spot. “‘m sorry ‘bout that. Al just doesn’t know when ta quit. It ain’t about- we don’t have to-.”

Spot closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and interrupted the other boy as their lips met.

Sometimes words weren’t needed.

They were one. Spot’s hands finding their places, one tangled in Race’s hair, the other wrapped around him. Race’s arms made their way to him to. It felt like they had always been this way, like two puzzle pieces designed to fit together. The two of them together, forever.

Spot lost track of time, lost track of everything in Race. He had no idea how long had passed until a particularly loud yell from inside caused both boys to break apart from each other.

“Wow,” Race breathed out, and Spot couldn’t help but to agree.

Race’s lips were reddened, his entire face flushed, and all that Spot wanted to do was to make out with him again.

The door slammed open, interrupting that train of thought. “Race! You out here? I’s need yous ta help me get these lightweights back to Hattan without falling apart,” came Jack Kelly, and despite their history of animosity, Spot had never hated Jack more than he did right now in this instant for interrupting him.

“I- yeah, I’s comin’. Give me a sec!” Race called back.

Spot let out a big breath once the door closed again, hopefully without Jack realizing what exactly had been going on out there only moments before. Jack really wanted to avoid having that conversation.

“I should- I should probably be heading back now. But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?” Race said, his voice cracking near the end, as though he was unsure as to what any of this meant.

“Of course, Racer. And we need to talk about-“ Spot said, breaking off when he realized he didn’t have the words to express what had just happened, instead settling for some awkward hand movements between the two of them.

Race gave a tiny nod. “I want us to be something, just so you know.”

Spot smiled at him. This was going to be a Christmas to remember. “Of course. I want us to be something too.”

Race grinned, leaning in to hug Spot before pulling away to go retrieve his drunken buddies. Right before Race went to open the door, he paused, looking back over his shoulder at Spot. “Hey Spot? I already miss you. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Spot muttered back, and Race was gone, but only for now.

Spot grinned, staring up at the dark night sky in contrast with the rest of the world. If Christmas was about anything, it was about hope and family, and with Race, Spot knew that he was going to have both.

Hope. It was truly a magical thing to have, in a city that sometimes felt like everything was against the newsboys. But Spot had hope, not just for now, but also for the New Year, and he was nearly sure that he was going to be spending it with Racer at his side, as a little bit more than friends.

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially supposed to end a death fic, but I ended it a lot more hopefully since this ending fit with the rest of the words. Thanks to everyone for reading.


End file.
